


as the world caves in

by alltears



Series: savior complex [5]
Category: Dragon Age - All Media Types, Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: Angst, Canonical Character Death, Dissociation, Dorian Pavus Has Issues, F/F, Friendship, Gen, Hugs, Hurt/Comfort, Implied/Referenced Self-Harm, Implied/Referenced Suicide, Inquisitor & Dorian Pavus Friendship, Love, M/M, Mental Health Issues, Panic Attacks, Post-Dragon Age: Inquisition Quest - What Pride Had Wrought, Recovery, Suicidal Thoughts, being inquisitor is painful y'all
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-27
Updated: 2020-12-27
Packaged: 2021-03-10 22:47:38
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,792
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28354926
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/alltears/pseuds/alltears
Summary: she doesn't remember going up to the barricades. she doesn't remember what's worth staying for. she doesn't remember who she was before the inquisitor.dorian wants to remember his friend.
Relationships: Dorian Pavus & Female Trevelyan, Dorian Pavus & Original Female Character(s), Female Inquisitor & Dorian Pavus, Female Inquisitor/Josephine Montilyet (background), Iron Bull/Dorian Pavus (mentioned), Josephine Montilyet/Female Trevelyan (background)
Series: savior complex [5]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2030170
Comments: 1
Kudos: 23





	as the world caves in

**Author's Note:**

> hello lovelies!! hope you had very happy holidays!! here's a vent fic because that's all i doooo!
> 
> TW, PLEASE READ: there is a minor reference to self-harm/self-mutilation, but this whole fic is about dissociation and suicidal thoughts. it ends on a positive note, but please please turn back if that will harm you. 
> 
> love you all!

The silent walk back to his quarters had truly been becoming a pain not worth the dignity it saved him. Dorian’s secret walks once all of Skyhold fell dark might have stopped some of the questions the next day about just what he was doing coming to breakfast from Iron Bull’s room, but he was always half-asleep and freezing. Maybe it was fine the first few times, but since it’d become a nightly occurrence, Dorian thought it might be time to reevaluate some things. It seemed Bull was casual enough mentioning their trysts in front of their companions, anyways.

Nonetheless, Dorian was well-acquainted with the guardposts he’d have to sneak by. Two scouts at the gates, one near the stables, two outside the main hall.  _ Those  _ were the troublesome soldiers, as it meant he had to walk up to the barricades and sneak around the Commander’s room in order to enter the library, collect his things, and go to his own haunt. 

Dorian ascended the cobblestone stairs to the barricade only to be greeted by a shadowed figure looking out over the mountains. He startled with a shout, rearing back and reaching for staff that wasn’t there. The person made no movement or sound - absolutely no indication that they’d noticed Dorian’s presence at all. Though he supposed he could simply move on and pretend this had never happened, his eyes adjusting in the dark soon caught up, and he realized he was staring at the back of the Inquisitor.

“Oh! Natasha! What’s a woman like you doing in a place like this?” Dorian quickly adapted and began to relax again. Moments passed, and she didn’t respond. He stepped to her side and reached a tentative hand out to her shoulder before dropping it self-consciously. “Er… Inquisitor?”

She hummed, at least, at that, so short and quiet that Dorian wasn’t entirely convinced it’d really happened at all. He squinted at her profile against the night sky. Her eyes were wide and her skin was pale - perhaps from the cold? Disturbingly, her mouth was dropped open slightly, and Dorian could see the fog of her breath leaving and entering, as though she were panting like a dog. She was wearing only her nightgown and a dark cloak, Dorian realized, and no gloves where her icy fingers gripping the icier rails of the barricade.

“Natasha, stop,” Dorian’s worry for her surged, and he plucked her hands off the stone and cradled them in his own. At this, Trevelyan finally startled out of her state as she was met face to face with her friend. 

“What?” She croaked, her throat raw from the chill. “Why are you out here?”

“Why am  _ I _ -? Inquisitor, your answer to that question is much more pressing. Are you alright?”

“I’m…” Trevelyan’s eyes went inattentive again, unfocused as if she weren’t there but back in the damned Fade.

“Stay with me, Inquisitor, that’s an order,” Dorian tried to make the words playful, but this was disconcerting. Of all the time he spent with Trevelyan, this was not a woman he had seen. 

She did return her focus at his request, but the mild victory was short-lived. Trevelyn scanned Dorian’s face, his chest, where their hands met, and made her way back up.

“I’m fine,” she stated, and then promptly began to cry.

This was not done in Tevinter - breaking down your walls in front of others - and Dorian guessed it was similar for Trevelyan growing up, too. He wasn’t completely sure what to do.

“I don’t think you are, Inquisitor” he attempted lamely, as though pointing it out would soothe her somehow.

“Please,” Trevelyan sobbed and squeezed his hands, hard and shaky from desperation. “Please, stop calling me that.”

“I…” Yes, Dorian did recall her requesting he not call her any of her fancy titles, at least in private, though he could not have guessed it would have this effect. “Natasha. I’m sorry. Natasha.” 

She shook her head, the sobs still racking her body, and all Dorian felt was fear for his friend. The responsibilities of being Inquisitor weighed heavily on her, he knew, but this was something entirely new. He wondered for a moment if she could have been possessed in the Fade, though… Oh.

“Natasha,” he spoke softly. “Why don’t you like people calling you that?”

“I shouldn’t-” she sniffled. “It shouldn’t be me. I don’t want this, Dorian, I can’t - just take the mark, please! I didn’t ask for this!”

“I know, Natasha, I know,” Dorian calmed, dropping her hands to more tightly secure the cloak around her shoulders that had fallen in her thrashing. “I am truly, terribly sorry that you were blessed - or cursed - with this mark. Though, selfishly, I am glad that it brought us together,” he tried for another laugh,  _ that always made her feel better _ , but was met with dead air.

“I didn’t ask for people to die for me,” she whispered, beginning to lose her energetic despair only to be left with the quiet emptiness that Dorian knew firsthand looked calm but felt like death.

“This is because of Warden Stroud,” Dorian didn’t need to ask. The mention of the name made her face contort in pain. The tears that started to subside came back at full force, wrecking herself like a hurricane from the inside out. She clutched, scratched at her chest, trapped in an internal agony. As quickly as she began to attack herself, Dorian was grabbing her hands again and pulling her close. She would  _ not  _ hurt herself while he stood and watched.

“A good man died because I  _ told him _ to!” She wailed into his shoulder. “I can’t - It should have been  _ me _ !”

“Oh, Natasha, no. He was aware of the sacrifice he was making. You did what you had to do, that’s all. You had to stay and lead the Inquisition.” Trevelyan pushed out of his grip and jabbed her left arm to the air in front of him. The mark shone an eerie, sickening green over both their pained faces.

“Take it. Take it! Dorian, please, cut off my hand. You can - can still seal the rifts, I’m sure, I can’t, I can’t, I can’t!” She sobbed, her petite frame heaving with the weight of the world locking her down.

Bile rose in Dorian’s throat as he cast his gaze to the snowy rocks far, far below them.  _ Was she going to... _

“Natasha,” he tried so, so hard to keep his words steady, but his voice still cracked and wavered through the cold and the emotion. “What are you doing out here?”

Her eyes glazed again for a moment, and Dorian feared he was going to have to call Josephine, a healer,  _ someone  _ to help her stay with them. Just as quickly, she met his eyes again, now with a new awareness he’d been missing in this conversation. Trevelyan’s eyes darted around, looking at the mountains and the fortress, feeling Dorian’s hands on her and truly seeing them.

“I… don’t know,” she whispered, clarity filling them both. “I don’t know how long I’ve been out here. Maker’s breath, Dorian, I’m - so embarrassed.”

With a sigh, she stepped back, out of Dorian’s grasp, and scrubbed her hands over her face and shook her head. Her vibrant orange curls, covered in snowflakes that shone like stars under the moon, bounced at the movement as Dorian attempted to understand everything that was going through the girl’s brain.

“For all my intelligence, I am… a bit lost here, Natasha. Why would you be embarrassed?”

She huffed a laugh.

“Just because you’re old and wise-”

“-I’m only thirty-!”

“Yes, and I am twenty-four, so,  _ old _ -” Dorian bit back a reply with a growl. “-But that doesn’t mean you know everything. I contain multitudes.” Trevelyan gazed up at him with a tentative, scared smile that he knew was her asking for help.

“Yes, yes, you’re very wonderful and complex. Come here, would you?” Dorian had barely parted his arms before she was falling into them and clinging to his back in perhaps the tightest hug he’d ever participated in. Naturally, he met her strength, one arm snug around her shoulders and his other hand in her hair. Surely she was uncomfortable with her face smooshed into his chest, but she didn’t seem to mind at all.

“I get these thoughts. That I shouldn’t be Inquisitor. That I don’t deserve Josephine. Or you. That I should,” he felt her swallow before she tried again. “That I should die, because so many died for me. I deserve to. But, I know I can’t. Because I have the mark. It’s me Corypheus wants, so I have to fight him. And then, after that, I can… go. I guess.” The wind blew, cold and severe and loud in their ears. Dorian pulled her in closer to protect her, though he said nothing. “Are you mad?”

“At you? Never,” he let the smile come through in his tone, but it was only for her sake. Dorian really didn’t feel like smiling at the moment. “Have you talked to anyone about this? Josephine?”

There was a moment of nothing, and then the slightest shake of her head against him.  _ Shit _ .

“She’d be sad if she knew.”

“True she would. I am too, you know. I’m still honored you told me. That you trust me. But, Natasha, listen to me as someone you trust when I say that you are worthy beyond this title or any. Mark or no mark. These deaths, these life-or-death decisions… Maybe, after the war, The Inquisitor can go. But  _ you _ , Natasha, cannot. I will still need a friend to talk to, and Josephine will still need her bed kept warm, and Varric will need more stories about you so he can keep food on his table.” Dorian could barely make out a muffled giggle. “Natasha will still have a whole life ahead of her, mark or no mark. So, let’s both keep living, yes?”

Trevelyan crept out of his iron grip and wiped at her wet eyes and rosy cheeks.

“Yes,” she sniffled. “I will try, Dorian. For you.”

“Hmm, I am honored,” Dorian started, ruffling her already-tangled hair. “But you need to do it for yourself, my darling. Now, come on, before we both freeze to death and become ice statues used to warn children of the dangers of being out in the cold.”

“I can’t go back. Josephine will wake, and she hardly sleeps anymore.”

“My quarters, then. We can snuggle up and have a true slumber party. Tomorrow, though, I think you should tell her about this.” She looked unconvinced. “For me?”

“For you, Dorian,” Trevelyan relented.

“And for yourself, too,” he affirmed, offering his arm to lead her into warmth.

**Author's Note:**

> hope you enjoyed! my poor girl has it rough. stay safe! you are loved!
> 
> tumblr: alltears


End file.
